


Ghosts That We Knew

by Copper_Viper



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copper_Viper/pseuds/Copper_Viper
Summary: TW for explicit mention of suicide.





	Ghosts That We Knew

**Author's Note:**

> TW for explicit mention of suicide.

Evan Hansen, PhD, celebrated professor of dendrology at an environmental school was perhaps at the height of his teaching career when his world started to crash around him.

            November 30th.

            7:03 am.

            An email.

            A student.

            A senior.

            Passed away.

            “Passed away” was putting it lightly. By 8:15 am the news had spread throughout the campus.

            “Passed away” would imply the student had passed away of natural causes.

            A bullet through the head wasn’t a natural cause.

            By 9 am Evan was sending out a mass email to all of his classes; classes had been cancelled.

            By 10 am he was emailing his advisees; there would be no meetings that day.

            He didn’t imagine many people would be wanting to attend classes or meetings that day, given most of his advisees were seniors, as were the students in his classes.

            The senior that had been found dead that morning was fairly well-known throughout the campus.

            Unlike the last time he had known a senior to be found dead, he had no doubt that people would actually care that this one was gone.

            At 2:35 pm he found himself in his office, shades down and door locked.

            The computer on his desk was open to a webpage that he thought wouldn’t have still existed after all these years.

            In his shaking hands were a pin and a pamphlet, things he had held on to for fifteen years.

            He set the items on his desk, placing his head in his hands.   

            He allowed himself to stay like that for a while, finally brining himself to send off an email at 3:07 pm.

            Is was his two weeks’ notice.

            At 5 pm, he forced himself to call someone he hadn’t spoken to in nearly fourteen years.

            After three rings, the person picked up.

            “Zoe?”


End file.
